


Dusty Toys

by darlathecyborgpluviophile



Category: Undertale
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Suicidal Ideation, flowey's genocide runs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 23:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5720707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlathecyborgpluviophile/pseuds/darlathecyborgpluviophile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flowey keeps a different person alive at the end of each of his Genocide runs, just to see what their reaction is and to torment them further.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dusty Toys

The very last living thing in the underground was held like a doll within his thorny clutches.

There were so many things he could do here; anything at this exact point could change the game (and the dialogue within) in new and exciting ways.

The flower smiled. It might even make him feel something again, though all the times before hadn’t worked at all.

“So,” he said, suddenly struck by inspiration, “Tell me: how does it feel, being the last one alive?”

 

I.

She was simply saddened.

“I feel deeply sorry for you, small one.”

The smile turned into a glare as he stared up at her.

“Something truly awful must have happened to you in order to make you feel you had to take this path. I only wish I could have saved you from it. I wish that, somehow, I could have prevented you slaughtering all of the innocent people in this world. Small one, I-”

A ring of bullets surrounded her.

“What? You only wanted to change things? For little old me, no less?” The flower’s high pitched voice suddenly dropped an octave lower. “Well golly, mom, I wanted the same thing.”

A sudden shock and horror dawned on her face before she was shot and turned to dust.

The flower would never leave her for last again.

 

II.

He was confused and hurt.

“Why are you doing this?”

The flower rolled his eyes; he didn’t need sympathy.

The tall skeleton continued. “You don’t have to do this!! You can stop, right now. You can put me down, and we can just talk! And be friends!”

“And what would that do for me?”

“Huh?”

“It’s all been about you, hasn’t it? Never about ‘helping others’ or ‘love’, or 'changing people for good’ like you say. It’s always been about lonely old you, who just wants a friend no matter what it takes to get one. What you’re saying is that you’re willing to excuse everything I’ve done, all the actions of a relentless killer, just to be friends with me?” What the flower had for lips curled into an evil smile. “You are so desperate.”

“Stop,” he whispered, suddenly not able to speak in his normal, booming voice. “That’s….that’s not…”

“You never protected anyone, not even the two people who were your only 'friends’. You’re nowhere near 'great’.”

“I…I did…”

“I thought you’d like to know, as they both crumbled to dust in front of me, they wanted you to be there. Especially your brother,” the flower added, whispering.

“No!”

“You know, I can still hear his desperate whispers for you, but you never came. You can’t help anyone. Not even the people you care about most.”

This was it; his breaking point.

“Why,” he said sadly, brokenly, “Are you doing this?”

A ring of bullets appeared around him, causing him to straighten up from a sagging, sulking demeanor to a scared and panicky one that felt to the flower something like fun to watch.

“Because I like to play games with my friends. Aren’t you having fun?”

He soon crumbled away.

 

III.

She was fighting.

“Listen, when I get out of here –and I will, don’t you worry–, you are gonna get your ASS handed to you so bad it’ll make your stupid flower head SPIN!”

“Ah, always putting on the false bravado, even in the face of probable death,” the flower commented, trying hard to look completely disinterested in her threats. “It’s funny when someone like you secretly has a soft side.”

“Shut UP!! I’ll hurt you!!” She struggled against the thorny grip she was caught in.

“Will you? Miss 'tough as rocks’, captain of the Royal Guard?”

A shimmering fountain of blue magic appeared in her hand, soon taking shape into the form of her trademark spear.

An unoccupied vine reached up and snapped it in half.

“You’re so pathetic, really. Did you honestly think I wouldn’t see that?”

“SHUT UP!”

“Ugh, is that all you’re capable of saying? I remember why you’re usually one of the first people I kill now.”

“You killed everyone! You’ll pay for this!! I don’t care if everyone else is dead!!! I’ll fight in their memories! For all the innocent blood that’s been-”

The bullets hit her before she finished the sentence. With how hard it had been to wrangle her into his grip in the first place, the flower decided he was never going to go for that ending again.

 

IV.

She was in tears.

“I-I don’t know what you want from me…”

“Awwww, come on, I only want a response. Tell me how you feel.”

“Are you g-g-gonna hurt me?”

“Not at all! I just want to chat with you. I mean, we’re pretty close, aren’t we? I think I deserve that courtesy at the very least.”

“No…but I’m…..I’m scared. I’m really really scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of you.”

The flower giggled. “But didn’t you make me? You took an enormous, unwieldy power and injected it into an inanimate object with the dust of a boss monster on it. In all honesty, you should probably be scared of yourself.”

“It…I swear, it was an accident, I didn’t know it would do this to you, Asrie-”

“DON’T. CALL. ME. THAT.”

“I can still help you,” she said, breath hitched and shaky. “I…I could figure out some way to free you from your pain-”

“Really? This, coming from the failure of a scientist who has horrible, reality bending mutations of innocent creatures living in her basement? The woman who made me this way in the first place? Yes, I’ll put all my faith in her.”

Her sobs were loud and noisy now, crashing with her breathing into a cacophony of pain the flower ate right up.

Unexpectedly, he released her from his tight grip and placed her on the rocky floor.

“Y-y-you’re letting me go?”

“Yup! Go enjoy your freedom. Though, it might be kind of hard considering you’re out of a job, and pretty much everyone else is dead. Even Undyne, you know. Man, she sure was a tough cookie.”

She knelt, still sobbing and shaking badly. “I….I don’t think I want to live…”

A ring of bullets appeared around her crumpled form.

“I can help with that.”

 

V.

He was regretful.

“I…I tried so hard. I only wanted to do the right thing for my people, to save them and preserve them and give them hope. I made myself do terrible things because of that, and it did not even help. I…”

He couldn’t move very well with his bulky form enclosed in the grip of a vine, but he managed to find a way to curl in on himself.

“I’m just…sorry.”

“Let me guess,” said the flower, placing a little leaf up to his chin in mock thought. “You’d only like to see your family again?”

The king above him nodded, slightly shocked but mostly saddened. “I should have protected them, all those years ago. I should never have let Asriel go to the surface. I should not-

He was crying.

The flower beamed, though contemplating what to say next,

“No. No, you shouldn’t have, because I’m what resulted from that.”

The victim looked up and, for the first time, met the eyes of his captor.

“What?”

“Really, though, this is all your fault. If you had been stronger, if you had been smarter, if you had been more…determined, maybe you could have saved him from becoming like this. And maybe, you could have saved everyone. Maybe…you could have still had a family.”

His voice was weak and shaking, a rare occurrence for him. “Are…you…my son?”

A ring of bullets surrounded the large form of the king.

“You didn’t save me. I want you to let that sink in.”

He resumed crying. “My son…oh, my Asriel, I am so sorry…I am so sorry….”

He went on for a while. At first it was gratifying to the flower see something new in the world, especially from such a mighty, stoic source. Seeing his own great father turn into a broken, crying mess made him feel something so close to satisfied he thought that he might be on the verge of actually having emotions again. But like everything else, it evaded his grasp in the most maddening way. Eventually, he just put him out of his misery.

The cries for the person he once was got grating after a while.

 

VI.

He said nothing.

He refused to give him the pleasure of an answer. It was his only rebellion at this point, wrapped in vines and held many meters above the rocky surface; refuse to give the anomaly what it craved.

“Awwww…are you giving me the silent treatment?”

Still, he said nothing. He couldn’t.

“We’ve done this quite a lot, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you’ve run out of things to say.”

His grip on the small skeleton tightened.

“But, I bet I could get a response out of you.”

Another vine grew out of the ground and moved to adjust the red scarf around his neck.

“I know how it hurts, you know. To be afraid of what the next day will bring. To not be able to feel much of anything. To not even want to live anymore.” The flower sighed dramatically. “It must be hard going to sleep at night, not knowing if things will get Reset, huh? Having that constant mental anguish of knowing that nothing you do will ever matter in this world.”

His victim’s eyes were squeezed shut, clearly trying hard not to listen to him, or avoid crying, or even both.

“I even know what it’s like to lose a precious sibling.”

He flinched violently.

“You know, I find you really….interesting. There’s something about you that really sparks the old imagination. I’ve done this so many times that I’ve seen almost every part of your personality, and I must say, this one is definitely the most fun to play with.”

He finally broke, saying, “We’re just toys to you,” in a monotone.

The vine that had been playing absent-mindedly with his scarf the past few minutes suddenly stopped and slithered to high above his head, where it hung momentarily.

“Oh yes, and you know, I guess I’m just one of those kids who likes to break their toys, especially when they’re so…fragile.”

The vine swung down with absurd strength and smashed his skull in. All that was left soon was a red scarf and a worn blue jacket, half buried in a pile of dust.

“Sweet dreams,” the flower said, reaching into his mind for a little, blocky menu system.

 

VII.

He pushed the button with the words ‘TRUE RESET’ in big, glowing letters.

He closed his eyes.

And then he was in the sunny throne room.

“Reassembling them is fun too,” he mused. “It means I can break them all over again.”


End file.
